


White mark on your cheek

by karasunotsubasa



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Locked In, M/M, aomine crushing on kagami, not yet in a relationship aokaga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 18:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3144881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunotsubasa/pseuds/karasunotsubasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aomine and Kagami get locked inside a storage room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White mark on your cheek

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nami/gifts).



> I haven't written anything knb related in like half a year??? so I'm totally off on the characterization and I just feel like this was a total failure, but oh well... I still hope you enjoy it ^u^)b

"It's not going to work," Aomine said stretching lazily on the box he's been sitting on.

He leaned his back on one of the huge bags of flour that piled in heaps around the room and locked his fingers behind his head, looking up at the dusty ceiling. For good five minutes he's been fighting of boredom by watching Kagami push and pull at the door leading in and out of the small storage room they've been locked in, trying to get it to open, but to no avail on both counts - the door was stuck closed and he was just as bored as before.

It seemed like it was going to be a long afternoon, Aomine thought, yawning.

"It's still better than doing nothing," Kagami barked at him over his shoulder, this time unpinning his name tag from his uniform and fiddling with the lock with its tiny needle.

If he actually manages to open it, Aomine smirked to himself, knowing there was no way it would actually happen but still entertaining the idea out of pure boredom, I'll ask him out. Kagami swore, in Japanese and in English, sometimes both at the same time, his hands fruitlessly working in the small space under the handle, while Aomine sat languorously watching him fail, half amused, half scared he might actually succeed.

It was somehow uplifting, he had to admit. Kagami was never one to give up, that much Aomine knew from their continuous one-on-ones. Yet during all the times that the ball was taken from him by surprise, or skill, or a breathtaking stare of the zone, he learned something else. It wasn't only Kagami's fighting spirit that moved him, it was also his potential to grow. He improved at a terrifying rate, so fast Aomine was often scared he would catch up to him, catch up and surpass him. But more than the fear, Aomine felt the excitement course through his veins at the thought, amusement as Kagami struggled and succeeded in keeping up, happiness because Kagami was it. Kagami was the one who could - no, who _would_ stand with him, stand _before him_. And Aomine couldn't wait for the time it was his turn to chase after Kagami's back.

But Kagami was a fast learner of manual tasks too, Aomine noticed, and sudden dread took hold of his heart. If he left Kagami to focus, maybe he would actually be able to pick the lock and set them free. And if that were to happen, he'd have to ask him out, he promised that and he was a man of his word.

Swallowing uncomfortably, Aomine cleared his throat.

"You know," he said, eyes leaving Kagami's hunched form to look around the storage room in feigned disinterest. "Someone's bound to notice we're gone. Besides, they need more supplies all the time and if we're not there to bring them, they'll have to send someone else. Just sit back and take a breather."

"That's not what we're being paid for," Kagami grumbled, his back still turned towards Aomine, who resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Trust the guy to worry about money in their position.

"And you won't get paid at all if you damage that door, Bakagami," he returned and by the sudden silence that followed, he knew he won.

Feet shuffled across the floor and Kagami nudged his thigh with his knee. "Move over then," he requested, and promptly flopped down, puffs of flour rising at his sudden motion.

They coughed, breathing it in, and then coughing some more. Aomine felt his eyes water and throat dry out, the flour sticking to the inside of his mouth and tongue. He grimaced in disgust. As if it wasn't enough that it was the middle of summer, temperature reaching over 30 degrees and they were stuck in a small storage room - now he had lungs full of flour. Lovely.

When the air in the room cleared and the floor has been coated in a carpet of the remnants of white flour, Aomine relaxed once again, carefully propping his back against the bags behind them, mindful not to joust yet another deathly cloud. As he didn't, he sighed quietly, and closed his eyes. Maybe he should take a nap, they'd probably wake him up once they're free. He was right about to follow with his plan, when Kagami's voice cut through the silence of the room.

"I'm bored," he announced.

"No shit," Aomine snorted, and was pretty sure that he was on the receiving end of Kagami's glare, but he didn't care enough to open his eyes to check.

"I meant," Kagami's voice was tighter than before, as if he was controlling his anger. "Talk to me about something, Aomine."

Oh god, that sounded so annoying… "Like what?" he asked despite himself. Couldn't this idiot just take a nap instead?

"Basketball!"

Aomine's eyes snapped open and he looked at Kagami with a new-found interest only to find himself staring. Kagami's hair was white with the residual flour, some of it clinging to his damp skin of his face, making it an even sharper contrast with his own. But it was inconsequential with the sparkling white of Kagami's teeth, lips stretched apart in a smile so bright, it could rival the sun. Aomine started, and stared, his heart suddenly painfully aware of his crush being right _there_ , at an arm's length, in a locked storage room.

And then his head stomped into action before it was too late to go back.

"What about basketball?" he asked, focusing back on the subject at hand, and not Kagami's shining, shining eyes.

"Wait, you have some flour on your cheek," Kagami said, gesturing towards his face.

Aomine rubbed at it carelessly. They were covered in flour from head to toe, why did it even matter? But when Kagami shook his head 'not yet', he sighed and sat up straight. His heart beating wild in nervousness and anticipation of what he was about to say, he looked the other in the eye.

"Then get it off," he demanded, watching for the reaction, waiting for refusal, sensing the incoming pang of hurt.

But when it didn't happen and Kagami slowly, almost tentatively reached out to brush his knuckles across his cheek, Aomine knew he made the wrong choice. Wrong on so many levels, his ribs told him as his heart pounded between them as if it tried to escape the confines of his chest. Kagami's touch was gentle, though his hands were rough and coarse from the strenuous basketball practice and hours of manual labour, they had a softness to them, something that Aomine knew he would never get enough of.

He breathed out shakily, in vain trying to calm his racing pulse, but when his and Kagami's eyes met, he knew he lost the battle against hormones. He was already leaning in by the time his head cleared enough to notice, and yet when he did, he didn't feel like stopping. So he leaned all the way forward, noticing with a lilt of satisfaction in his veins how Kagami's eyes widened briefly and then returned to normal, and Aomine could have sworn he was leaning in too, when…

…the lock to the storage room clicked, the door swinging open and the manager rushed through, stopping at the sight of them both - sitting on a supply box, too close for comfort, and covered from head to toe in flour.

Aomine cursed under his breath as Kagami jumped from his seat and fled through the now left ajar door. No luck this time either, Aomine thought with only a hint of disappointment. After all, for them, that first, special time had to be on the court. On the court, with ball in between them, as they grinned and fought to get one point more over the other.

Aomine smirked to himself, as he got up and dusted off his uniform.

Next time. Next time it'll be it, he promised.


End file.
